


Mirror, Mirror

by Sasswolf_Hale



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:32:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasswolf_Hale/pseuds/Sasswolf_Hale
Summary: Undertaker kept his sanity by acting insane. He watched the silver haired man wander around, muttering about a mirror. "Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who's the most like the one you see?" he giggled once more and gave a laugh





	

Grell Sutcliff sat on the top of a bookshelf in the Undertaker's house; the funeral parlor to be frank. It seemed fitting to Grell that a retired Reaper would work around something he was used to. It also made him want the silver haired male, now that he knew who the Undertaker actually was. It sent a shiver down the redhead's spine when he thought about it. The informant of Grell's now deceased master's nephew was the single most legendary Reaper known to the society. Grell had always wanted to be like the male, and now…he could have the next best thing. He could have the male to himself. Which was why he was here; he wanted to find a way to have the Undertaker take him as a lover. Of course, his new obsession had made him forget entirely about the demon butler Sebastian; at least for the moment.

As he entered the parlor where the retired reaper was stationed, and paused. "Hm? Where'd he go?" Grell wondered.

"Looking for someone?" a familiar voice said from behind. The sudden vocalized laugh made Grell scream and jump back, cloak moving about his frame slightly. His green eyes shifted as he realized the Undertaker stood behind him.

"Don't you know not to startle your guests?" Grell half-screamed, pointing a finger at the male.

"Why not? Perhaps I'll be lucky enough to give them a heart attack," the silver haired reaper said. He laughed darkly and moved to make note of how many coffins were in his parlor before he checked how many should be there. Satisfied that the numbers matched, he began looking into each coffin, making notes out loud to himself about certain things he could bring out. Grell found himself both appalled and intrigued. Most reapers merely relished in the death and took the cinematic records, none of them really looked at the body. Of course, once he paused, he realized it was natural for the reaper before him, who was currently commenting on how the subject in the coffin had sliced their wrist the wrong way, so now the body's hand needed to be sewn back on.

"That would be a nice accessory to take into the afterlife, nay?" the Undertaker asked as he looked at Grell, who blushed about as red as his hair and stammered an ascent.

"Why do you spend your days talking to dead bodies, Undertaker?" he asked, his flamboyant flair coming back. "The living are much more excitable company." He explained, hopping up onto the counter and crossing his legs as if he were a noblewoman at an engagement.

"Hmm?" the silver haired man stopped his examination of a dead woman in a tattered purple dress to look at the redhead. "The living tend to talk too much for my liking," he replied. "Unless they're telling jokes, it really is pointless for them to use their voices.' He explained. Of course, that was what his angle had been when he was on active duty as a reaper; if the subject could make him laugh, they were spared. William had learned to not expect every name on the Undertaker's list to be reaped. "The dead, now, there's a crowd worth hanging around with." He picked up the woman's body and danced with it about the room. "They never need a drink, or food, and they say so much by just lying still!" he giggled maniacally and then set the body back in place. "But if my company bores you, you're welcome to go find some souls to reap." He tilted his head before he darted forward, landing on his feet in front of Grell, his face just inches away. "Or is there something else you want, hm?" he inquired, tilting his head.

Grell was not surprised, although embarrassed, as Undertaker asked him such a question. But Grell knew that the other reaper had a loooong history of being flamboyant; which was a part that Grell excelled at being.

"It's like a mirror, yeah." Undertaker mumbled as he danced away to continue talking to himself. "A mirror with a different color scheme." He mused. Most people considered him a mad man for this, but Ciel Phantomhive found the reaper's information helpful all the time. Grell found it a little admirable that Undertaker kept his sanity by acting insane. He watched the silver haired man wander around, muttering about a mirror. "Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who's the most like the one you see?" he giggled once more and gave a laugh.

"What do yo mean by a mirror?" Grell asked.

"William stopped by recently, ya see. Said he had found several similarities between my former flair and the flair of one of his current employees. He wasn't fond of the overtime-"

"When is Will not irritated by the prospect of overtime?" Grell interrupted. He jumped back as Undertaker suddenly appeared in front of him again, falling back against the table. "What I it now?" he demanded in his slightly whiny voice. But he didn't get much of a response as Undertaker hopped up into his lap and grabbed the redhead by the shirt and forced his lip against the male's. Grell, shocked, merely froze where he was. At least until the silver haired male pulled the red coat off of him. Then it dawned on him, and he responded with ease, happy that the little riddle the silver haired man had been talking about had been himself. With a smirk, he pulled the other close, the pair falling back against the table. His arms slipping about the retired reaper's waist, he was met with vigorous kisses, and he just knew it was only the beginning…


End file.
